


Scandalously in Love: A Collection of Love Letters

by ValancyStirling



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Love Letters, Shirbert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-18 16:15:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21580435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValancyStirling/pseuds/ValancyStirling
Summary: Previously titled Anne of Blackmore Manor. A series of letters between Anne and Gilbert during their first year at college with some intermittent meetings.The title is taken from the quote, “Gilbert, I'm afraid I'm scandalously in love with you” from Anne of Windy Poplars.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe & Sebastian "Bash" Lacroix
Comments: 38
Kudos: 271





	1. Sunday, September 1, 1899 - On a train, somewhere before Montreal

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing this as an homage to Anne of Windy Poplars and Anne with an E.
> 
> #renewannewithane
> 
> Please comment with suggestions or constructive criticism.

Sunday, September 1, 1899

Dearest Anne,

It is not even 2:30 in the afternoon, and here I am, writing to you, my beloved. We parted ways at noon, yet the memory of your embrace still warms me. I must confess, I have thought (more specifically dreamed) about what it would be like to kiss you, but what transpired thoroughly exceeded expectations. My heart is still full, and as Bash would say, I’ve been “smiling like a moke” ever since.

I do have follow-up questions, but I feel I have to inform you about the contents of my letter. I have it proper authority that you tore it into pieces without even reading it. Anne, I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. (It feels so freeing to say it finally). I could not marry Winnifred, knowing that my heart will always belong to you. The day before I confessed to Winnie, I found myself thinking of nothing but you, you, dear, sweet, beautiful Anne. I went to visit the Barry’s, and when I entered, Diana was playing the Dashing White Sargent on the piano, and I was immediately transported back to dance practice where I muddled the lines so that I could dance with you. My heart was beating so loudly that it almost drowned out Mrs. Rachel Lynde’s instructions. Almost – it couldn’t beat that loudly; I dare say I would have died. (Please don’t share that with Mrs. Rachel, she’ll have my head). Then, while I was working on restoring the school, I found the remnants protest banner, and I found myself admiring your bravery and passion for standing up for what’s right. I went to the site of your storybook club and found a cockle shell. Knowing that it was yours, I kept it in my pocket. Lastly, I found myself at the bluffs overlooking the gulf, and all I could think about was missing you while I was at sea. The entire universe was telling me that my heart could belong to no one else but you. 

Being a Scientist at heart, the Queen’s results provided me with empirical evidence that you are my equal, my match. Life will never be boring or un-educational when you are around. I fully realize that the fact that you’re my match will probably lead us to argue, but Bash once told me that arguing often leads to the most passionate… I’m sorry, I’m being improper. I’m unsure if we are officially courting, and here I am speaking of such things.

Follow up question #1: Are we courting? Shall we court? I believe that a letter to the Cuthberts is in order. I want to make this official.

We are quickly running out of the Maritimes, and soon New Brunswick will blend into La Belle Province. I’m reminded of the last time I took this journey with my father and how much I miss him. He was quite enamoured by you the day you brought my school books. He couldn’t stop talking about your fiery red hair and how becoming it was. Even then, he knew that you were something special. I remember him telling me, “you better keep your eye on that Cuthbert girl, she’s going to be a beauty.” He was right. You would have really liked him, Anne, and he would have loved you. I feel that wherever he is right now, he’s happy.

My apologies for this letter being nothing but a stream of consciousness, I'm trying to fit in all the little conversations that we should have had if I had dared to offer to walk you home. Believe me; There were countless times when I wanted to. I chalk it up to the fact that I was young and foolish.

Oh, Anne! We have so much to talk about and write. Christmas seems a long way off, but I will be happy to see you and hold you and kiss you again. Can you imagine how Bash will react when I bring you over? He will tease me to no end. That being said, I may just have something or someone to tease him about come Christmastime.

I should be signing off now. I will write to you from Toronto.

Yours for now and forevermore, 

Gilbert

Ps: Where did you get your fountain pen? This one is scratchy and not at all suitable for writing love letters. 

Pps: You’re beautiful, but you were particularly exquisite today. 

Ppps: I love you. 

Pppps: May I call you Carrots, if I do so in love?


	2. Wednesday, September 6, 1899 - Toronto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gilbert writes his beloved Anne to tell her how he has settled into Toronto life so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll hear from Anne soon, don't worry.

Wednesday, September 6, 1899  
St. George St, Toronto

Dearest Anne,

It has been a whirlwind of a week, but I am finally settled in Toronto.

Since I was a late admission, there was no room for me at the dormitories. My next course of action was the university message board to seek a boarding house. There were hardly any left, but Providence was in my favour! I managed to find lodging with Jacob and Moira Steinberg, the sweetest little couple who live above their bookstore on St. George Street just a few blocks from the University. They rent out their master suite to university students and prefer to board pre-meds. Jacob likes to have a doctor (or a reasonable facsimile) close. Not that he’s particularly sickly, but after living past his three-score-and-ten, he wants to have, what he calls, “an insurance policy.”

Moira is all of four-foot-ten, but more than makes up for her small stature in personality. Upon meeting me, she vowed to fatten me up before the end of the term. She has read almost every book that has ever crossed through her store and at one time was a book editor in New York. She has personally met Nathaniel Hawthorne and even Walt Whitman! She told me that she once tried to get “Walt” to get a proper shave, but he would not oblige. "Walt may have had the heart of a poet, but he had the beard of a scoundrel!"

My room overlooks the cobblestone streets that always seems to be busy. There is a street lamp right outside my window; it’s a presence to which I have yet to be accustomed. I have a small nook with a desk and bookshelf that is quickly being overtaken by textbooks. In the opposite corner is a large leather wingback chair with a lamp, where I imagine I will spend many an evening reading journals and textbooks.

My bed is perhaps the most comfortable bed that I have ever slept in. It is stuffed so full of feathers that I hardly sink in at all. It is where I plan to read your letters repeatedly. That being said, I look forward to hearing from you once I give you my address.

Beside my bed is a nightstand that I hope to adorn with a photograph of the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. If you ever find yourself in her presence, would you be willing to pass along that information?

As a part of my boarding agreement, I am helping at the bookstore on Saturdays. I look forward to meeting and telling you about the characters. My first shift is this Saturday.

I have not officially started classes, but I have met with Dr. Oak on a few occasions. I can understand how she and Miss Stacy were so close. They are very similar. She has offered to help me with my course selection. This term, I am taking Human Physiology, Chemistry, Applied Mathematics, English, and Psychology. I suspect that I will spend a lot of time with my nose in the books, but I will carve out time to write to you (and daydream about you.)

Oh, dearest, I think of you daily and wish that you were beside me. I do find myself having conversations with you in my head. I long to experience life with you – the highs, the lows, the exhilarating, and the mundane. I want it all with you. How sweet with that day be when we have both fulfilled our obligations and can be joined together for as long as we both shall live!

I realize that I am wearing my heart on my sleeve, but since we made amends, I feel so much bolder with sharing my feelings.

Dearest Carrots, I must sign off for now. I am growing tired from my travels, and my bed is calling me. I will see you in my dreams, sweetheart. I know that for sure because you always are.

I am waiting with bated breath for your first letter, my Annest of Annes.

I hope Queens is all that my Queen Anne has expected.

Your Kindred Spirit,

Gilbert.


	3. Monday, September 11, 1899 - St. George Street, Toronto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gilbert introduces Anne to his new college friends and shares a few stories from his first week in Toronto.

Monday, September 11, 1899

St. George Street, Toronto

Dearest Anne,

I am officially a pre-med, but I feel like such a small fish in a big pond. There seems to be much more big fish than I had initially thought. It brings me solace that I earned my spot based on my wits, and not the size of my father’s pocketbook. I have managed to find a small group of friends who are in a similar situation. Surprisingly, they are all Maritimers.

First, there’s Billy Kavanaugh; he’s from the furthest East. He’ll be the first to tell you that he’s a Newfoundlander, not a Canadian. He speaks with such a sing-song lilt that it’s almost difficult to understand him. He claims that his quick speech is evidence of his quicker than average mind. He was the valedictorian at St. Bonaventure’s College in St. John’s and earned a nearly perfect score on his entrance exams. He’s happy that he found another, albeit different, islander. Just this afternoon, Billy looked at me, nodded and exclaimed, “Gilly, my son! We’re gonna have some time ‘ere! Two island boys in Tronna!”

Then there’s Rory McIntyre, a Halifax boy. His father was a master shipbuilder on account of his steady hand. Rory has decided to use his inherited steady hand and become a surgeon. Like me, he has a sweetheart back home. Lily is pursuing English Literature at Dalhousie. I have a feeling that Rory and I will spend many an hour lamenting our decision to live so far away from the loves of our lives.

Lastly, there’s Leonard Campbell, the son of a dairy farmer from King’s County. At first sight, you would not say he has roots as a farm boy. He’s the sharpest dresser I have ever met. You would swear that he walked out of a catalogue from Paris. Oh Anne, the first time I met him, he was wearing the most exquisite royal blue velvet vest with matching socks! His late mother was a seamstress and taught him how to sew. He admits that designing and tailoring his clothes makes him feel closer to her. Leonard also reckons that he could put his blind stitching skills to good use as a doctor. He has an eye for detail. He already told me that he would help me find a pair of boots more suitable for a dashing pre-med.

So in the past few days, we have become a rag-tag group of friends. The rest of the boys live on campus, but they have welcomed me as an outsider, and I am grateful.

I have only attended a handful of classes, but I can imagine that this semester will be challenging. There is a silver lining, though – my examinations finish on December 16, which means I will be home well before Christmas. Oh, Anne, I cannot wait until I see you again. The five minutes we spent as an “us” were magical, can you imagine how wonderful it will be to have two precious weeks together? I know that I will have to share you with others, but I hope that we can find some time alone. I envision a winter stroll down Lover’s Lane, skating on the pond, and ringing in the new century. What say you, Queen Anne? How shall we make the most of our first Christmas together?

Oh, I almost forgot to tell you about my first shift at the Steinberg’s Book Emporium. Moira gave me the task of inventory. Her purpose behind this is to ensure that I know every nook and cranny of the store. The storefront is rather small, but it has an incredible selection of books. Some of the shelves can I can only reach by ladder. At around 10:30 in the morning, a rather distinguished gentleman arrived looking to purchase a birthday gift for his beloved Ethel. Moira recommended some notable female authors, Brontë, Austen, Browning. The gentleman insisted that he desired to give his wife something well-written and thought-provoking, and not some trashy novel written by a female. Moira winked at me and urged me to find a copy of _Middlemarch_ by George Eliot. After I had completed the transaction and the man had left, Moira burst out in laughter. “Little does he know that George Eliot is a nomme-de-plume for Mary Ann Evans, a woman!”

Moira has offered to find my textbooks for next term from her wholesaler. “It’s highway robbery what they charged you for books at the University and precious little goes to the hard-working men and women who put their heart and souls into writing it.” I can take any help that I can right now.

There’s a scholarship offered to all first-year pre-meds. It’s enough to cover the cost of tuition for the next year with the possibility of renewal, and I intend to win it. A scholarship will mean that I can come home next summer to study for my medical exams and help Bash a little around the farm (Not to mention spending time with my one and only). Otherwise, I will have to find work in the city. Anne, please pray that I can keep my wits about me and stay on track with my studies.

I shall sign off for now, for it is almost five o’clock, and Moira will be putting supper on the table soon.

I will see you in my dreams this evening, and in my arms come Christmas.

Yours truly madly and deeply,

Gilbert

Ps: Do you think I need new boots?


	4. Tuesday, September 12, 1899 - Two short letters with big news

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our aspiring doctor sends two letters - one to concede victory, the other to seek permission.

Tuesday, September 12, 1899  
St. George Street, Toronto

Dear Bash,

You win. 

I love her. I always have. Always will.

And she loves me. 

Can you do me a favour? Please look in my father’s chest; there is a brown volume of poetry by Walt Whitman. It was my father’s, and I would be much obliged if you passed it along to Miss Cuthbert for Anne.

Also, have you gone fishing lately? I hear there may be quite a catch to be had at the creek near our house.

I miss you, brother. I will see you at Christmas. 

Kiss Dellie for me and tell her that I love her.

Gilbert

* * *

Tuesday, September 12, 1899  
St. George Street, Toronto

Dear Mr. and Miss. Cuthbert,

I hope this letter finds you well. I am settled in Toronto and enjoying my classes.

I will make a more formal declaration when I visit at Christmastime, but I wanted to let you know my intentions.

Firstly, thank you for bringing the shining light that is Anne Shirley-Cuthbert to Avonlea. She has changed us all for the better - Myself included. I can’t imagine my life without her.

Secondly, I pray that you will give me permission to court Anne. Please do not be alarmed. I do not plan to ask for her hand, yet. We both have dreams to fulfill, but I do intend to ask for her hand someday.

I have very little to offer in terms of riches, but I do promise to encourage, love, honour, and cherish her for as long as the good Lord allows me. I vow to treat her as my equal loving partner in life.

Yours truly,

Gilbert Blythe


	5. Saturday, September 1, 1899 - Blackmore Manor, Charlottetown, PEI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne's first letter to Gilbert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, our boy receives a letter from his beloved Anne with an E.
> 
> I have included a few quotes from Anne of Windy Poplars, which I have presented in italics.
> 
> Enjoy!

Monday, September 1, 1899

Blackmore Manor, Charlottetown, PEI

Dear Gilbert,

I look like my mother.

Perhaps I should offer you some backstory.

This year, I have been searching for who I am, my origins. That was the quest I told you about when you were escorting me to Charlottetown. I wanted to learn more about my parents. Matthew was very supportive, but Marilla was not. Some of the anger and resentment I was harbouring towards Marilla was unfairly directed towards you, and I am genuinely sorry.

Later that day, Cole escorted me to the Asylum in Nova Scotia. The headmistress there was not at all helpful. My years at Green Gables had helped me forget some of the horrors that I experienced as an orphan, but being back there brought me to a dark place. A place where the memories of being told that I was trash and that no one would ever love me came to the surface of my consciousness. Oh Gilbert, if Cole wasn’t there, I fear I would have never returned from that place in my mind where the darkness hides. When you asked me on the train about my quest, I lied and told you that it was okay.

I returned a week later, this time alone, to consult the Church records. It was then that I found my parents’ names in the registry. Walter and Bertha Shirley had immigrated to Canada from Scotland. I wrote a letter to the parish in Scotland, but they were unable to provide any further details. Today, unbeknownst to me, Matthew and Marilla visited old Mrs. Thomas in Bolingbroke, the little town in Nova Scotia, where I was born. I lived with Mrs. Thomas for some time after my parents passed away. They were able to find a book, _The Language of Flowers_ , that my father had gifted my mother. Oh Gilbert, the pages were filled with memories written in my mother’s handwriting. The dearest part was, at the end was a sketch of my mother drawn by my father. She looked so elegant and beautiful. And her hair was as red as mine! Oh, dearest, I have never been so happy to have red hair, for it is my connection to my mother. My dear mother, who must have had a heart full of dreams for me, had fiery red hair. Like mine!

Today was a book of Revelation for me that I will read over and over in my head for years to come. In addition to learning more about my dear parents, I found you, my love! Not long ago, I could not believe that someone like you could or would ever look at me with such a loving gaze. Your hazel eyes were so full of love and devotion. Your kiss was sweet, passionate, and dare I say slightly scandalous. The fears of not being loved melted away in your warm embrace. I opened myself up to the possibility of love, and I have no regrets.

Oh, dearest! I cannot believe that you are so far away, yet you feel so close. I feel as if an invisible bond connects our very souls. A bond I believe existed before I was aware of it.

Gilbert Blythe, _I believe that I am scandalously in love with you! I hope that doesn’t sound too irreverent_ , but I simply cannot keep this news to myself. I long for a time when we can be together again, but until then, we will be happy working towards our future together.

Oh, dearest! I am now an us, and I cannot think of being an us with anyone other than you.

I look forward to hearing from you, and since I cannot send this letter yet, _I have blown a kiss in the direction of a place 1000 miles from here_.

Your Anne with an E

Ps: Thank you for returning my pen. I am sorry for destroying your letter. Was it poetic? Please fill me in!


	6. Wednesday, September 18, 1899 - Blackmore Manor, Charlottetown, PEI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne recounts her life at Queens to her darling Gilbert.

Wednesday, September 18, 1899

Blackmore Manor, Charlottetown, PEI

Dearest Gilbert,

I was thrilled to receive not just one, but two letters from you so far. We both must have been eager to write since it seems that the first was postmarked from Montreal. My poor letter had to wait almost a week before I could send it, for I had no idea where you lived. Can you imagine if I had addressed the letter this way?

Gilbert Blythe

The Handsomest Boy at the University of Toronto

Toronto, Ontario

Canada

The Steinbergs seem like charming folk, perhaps even kindred spirits. I am glad that your bed is comfortable. I am even more delighted that you dream of me while you slumber there. I, too, must confess that I dream of you more often than I should. Just last night, I mused about how the night at Miss Stacy’s could have ended differently. If you’re wondering, we didn’t argue, but it was just as passionate.

My classes are going well. I’m taking Mathematics, English Literature, French, History, and Botany. I do wish you were here to help me with Geometry, Pythagoras would be much more enjoyable if I could use it to study the angle of your most perfect jawline. Perhaps we could also find a way to explore the Romance languages together. Yes, Mr. Blythe, I can be a little improper at times as well. Remember, you are my equal.

Living with the Avonlea girls at Blackmore Manor is lovely at times, but sometimes trying. I am so happy that Diana and I are roommates, and we know that there are times to speak and times to be silent.

The Avonlea boys are doing well. Moody is leaning towards becoming a minister, and Ruby is beside herself, wondering how she can best prepare to be a minister’s wife.

It may be terribly mean of me to mention this, but I believe that we are responsible for the broken heart of poor Charlie Sloan. You see, at promptly two o’clock on Saturday afternoon, (exactly when Mrs. Blackmore stated that we could have gentlemen callers), Charlie and Moody arrived in the parlour. Ruby was thrilled to see her beau, and Charlie greeted me with his shy Sloan-ish greeting. He took a seat next to me on the setae, removing about three or four embroidered throw cushions (remind me to tell you about those at another time).

About ten minutes into our conversation, Moody enquired about your engagement. Diana’s eyes darted at me, and I could feel my face burn. I didn’t quite know how or if I should share about what transpired between us. However, Diana did not miss a beat. “Gilbert is not engaged, nor will he be. Isn’t that right, Anne?”

All eyes turned to me. “Yes, that is true,” was all I could manage to stammer.

“And how do _you_ know about this?” Josie demanded. The way she said _you_ made me shutter a little.

I mustered the courage to proceed, “he told me in not as many words before he left for Toronto last week.”

Josie was not satisfied. “What words did he say to you exactly?”

Diana interrupted, “Josie, actions speak louder than words. Romantic gestures, on the other hand, proclaim them from the mountaintops.”

Ruby squealed, “romantic gestures? Do tell!”

“My lips are sealed,” Diana teased. “It is really Anne’s story to tell.”

I replied, “let’s just say that Gilbert and I are going to be pen pals while he is away at U of T.”

“Will you be exchanging love letters?” Snorted Tillie.

“Perhaps,” was my only reply.

At that, poor Charlie’s shoulders slumped. I know that he was becoming slightly sweet on me and I love him as a friend, but the thought of romance with him does not excite me. He will make a lovely suitor for some lucky woman, but that woman cannot and will not be me.

We have been having a beautiful September. Someone mentioned that we’re having an _Indian_ _Summer_ and my heart ached thinking of poor Ka’Kwet. Oh Gilbert, the injustice her and her people are facing is just unfathomable. Every night, I pray for her, that God, her Creator, will strengthen her spirit to endure. Dearest, I think it is much worse than the asylum, and I felt that that was unbearable.

Dearest, with so much pain in the world, I am comforted that it is also filled with beautiful, caring people, like yourself. People who see others as equals and not someone to be enslaved. You always look for the good in everyone – which is one of the reasons I love you so.

I must sign out. It is almost ten, and Mrs. Blackmore will be checking to see if we are all in bed.

With a love that will echo through the ages,

Anne


	7. Friday, September 20, 1899 - Avonlea, PEI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bash's return letter to Gilbert with some Avonlea news.

Friday, September 20, 1899

Avonlea, PEI

Blythe,

I knew it! I told you! You denied it, but you finally came to your senses. It took a great deal of restraint not to knock you up the side of the head when you told me that you were going to propose to Winnifred. But praise be! You saw the light.

Elijah is settling in. He and I were walking to the Barry house the other day, and we ran into your “bud” Billy Andrews. Poor boy went as white as a sheet when he saw us. Elijah, doing his best to fit in with the Avonlea folk, extended his hand and said: “it’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, dear sir, Elijah Hanford.”

Well, Blythe, that poor Andrews boy, was at a loss for words. He managed to shake his hand and mumble, “Billy Andrews.” Then he nodded at me and scurried away.

“Is that poor white boy a simpleton?” Asked Elijah when Billy was out of earshot.

I bit my lip, fearing that Billy would hear me roaring with laughter, “no, Lige, he’s just not as warm to us black folk like the rest of Avonlea.”

Dellie has taken quite fondly to her brother and he with her. Mrs. Lynde has also taken Elijah under her wing and is teaching him how to crochet. “Idle hands are the devil’s work. That’s why I crochet,” is what she said one day. He’s bent on making a doll for his sister. His first attempt looked rather strange, more like a voodoo doll than a plaything. But Dellie loves the dreadful thing. Now, whenever we get pain, we blame Elijah and Dellie. He’s planning to have something more presentable made by Christmas.

Mr. Barry handed me two cheques for our apple crop, and I’ve enclosed yours with this letter. I have a few ideas up my sleeve for next year. Muriel brought me a book about cross-pollinating fruit-bearing trees, and Matthew gave me his seed catalogue. I’ll be doing some research over the winter months. I’ve also been thinking of ways to capitalize on our honey supply. Things are on the up and up for the Blythe-LaCroix farm.

Concerning your comment about fishing, I am happy to have a fishing buddy. Muriel is lovely, and I’ll leave it at that. (But I have a feeling you will not.)

I miss you, brother, and I look forward to having you home at Christmas. I’m starting to get uncomfortable with all these black folk around.

Sincerely,

Bash


	8. Sunday, September 22, 1899 - Barry Hall  Charlottetown, PEI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gilbert receives a surprise from Cole.

Sunday, September 22, 1899

Barry Hall

Charlottetown, PEI

Dear Gilbert,

I hope this letter finds you well. I have enclosed a small watercolour of Anne as she told me that you did not have a picture of her.

She posed for it last spring when she visited me at Barry Hall. I made a crown of flowers for her and made sure that every freckle was in place. Doesn’t she look gorgeous? She would never admit it herself, but she has a natural beauty that makes other girls pale in comparison. Part of her beauty lies in the fact that she doesn’t even know it.

Now Gilbert, before she was the love of your life, she was my muse, and she continues to inspire me. My love for her runs deep. She is like a sister to me. I know you love her too. I took notice of that years ago.

I hope you enjoy the painting. Anne has convinced me to submit some of my work into a National art contest. Little does she know; I will be sending a portrait of her.

Take care of yourself in the city.

Cole Makenziea


End file.
